The Eyes of Another
by RaphSai03
Summary: "Why won't you let me help you?" I scream. "This isn't you, Raph, you aren't supposed to self harm, or be depressed. You're supposed to be the strong passionate warrior Splinter raised you to be!" My eyes narrow in disgust as I stare at him and his cuts. How dishonorable he is to make those on his own wrists. If only he could see this through my eyes. (Cuts and Bruises Prequel)
1. Chapter 1

**Hello, and thank you for choosing to read my story. This is a prequel for my story Cuts and Bruises, currently in the works, so if you like this then go check it out. This story is told from Leonardo's POV only, so I will not be putting that at the beginning of each chapter for it will most likely never be from anyone else. One last thing, I'm not sure if I want to leave this as a oneshot or turn it into a story, so please give me feedback, it'd really mean a lot to me. Well, enjoy and review!**

 _Cling._ My Katana bangs loudly against Raphael's twin Sai. He snarls at me as we spar, his low, hardy growl mixing in with sounds of grunts and metal clashing against metal. My brother's emerald green eyes glare at me viciously, tempting to break me in half like a saw. I refuse to shatter, though, because whoever snaps at the words or looks of others is a coward. A coward with zero honor.

Raphael kicks my plastron roughly, sending me flying backwards.

When I drop to the ground with a loud groan, my opponent chuckles softly, taking a few steps forward until he's looking over me. "Not so strong now, are ya fearless?" The taunting tone Raphael uses to speak to me in is irritating. When sparring, one should not attack the other verbally, only physically! Why is it so hard for Raphael to understand that?

I jump up, coming nose to nose with my second in command. "Shut it, Raphael," I hiss lowly.

With a smirk playing on his large, green lips, Raph backs up, twirling his blades carefully. "Someone ain't very happy. Did big bad Raphie give wittle Leo a boo-boo?" The pouty lip he makes at the end just adds to the treacherous mocking.

Across the room, Donatello and Michelangelo spar, with Splinter helping them with their posture and swift, stealthy movements.

Glancing back at Raphael, I glare, my shoulders slumping down in annoyance. With a Sai grasped in each hand, Raphael bobs his weight from foot to foot, a challenging gleam in his dark green eyes.

I heave a long sigh before getting into a proper stance, readying my swords.

3...2...1...

Raphael lunges at me a little too suddenly, giving me absolutely no time to think.

We fall to the ground together, rolling across the carpets until I have him pinned beneath me.

Teeth baring, my hands hold Raphael's wrists down. My fingers wrap around his wrappings and his eyes widen in what looks like fear.

Fear? No, couldn't be. Raphael doesn't get scared, not since we were children. The last time I've seen him show any emotion other than anger was back when we were eight and a loud thunderstorm had roared overhead.

Me and my brothers had been playing together in the pit, just as we always did when we had a break from training. The tv was on, playing SpongeBob, though none of us had been watching.

Everything was calm on second, and then not the next. Directly over head, lightening shone down through the storm drain, thunder following quickly after. With us being Bennett the surface, with nothing but brick walls surrounding us, the thunder echoed louder than it did above.

We'd all ran to our father in fear, and Raphael hadn't stopped crying until he was being cradled gently in Master Splinter's arms. He was always a crybaby when we were tots, and nothing but our Sensei's touch could calm him.

My little brother, oh how stubborn he his, yet how sensitive. I've always been able to see it in his eyes, the uncertainty that hides there, masked behind a face paint of anger. I wonder if he realizes that his anger is nothing but an illusion? I wonder if he knows that he has other emotions too, and he just shoved them aside? I wonder if I asked him if he'd open up and tell me?

But most of all, I wonder what just startled him?

I leap away, stabbing my katana S back into my scabbard and offering a hand to pull Raphael up. He doesn't take my hand, though, he just glared at me as he gets up.

As Raphael stomps out of the dojo, probably to his room, I can't help but watch him. What was all of that about? Why had he been so dramatic right there? Did I hurt him? Perhaps I pinched a nerve? No, I couldn't have, all I'd done was clasp his wrists. So, what just happened?

"Leonardo?" Master Splinters voice booms from across the room, and I turn my head to meet his worried eyes. "What happened?"

"H-he got startled when I touched his wrists and...I don't really know what happened." I felt out of breath for some odd reason, as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of my lungs, leaving me gasping.

Sensei's eyes widen, but quickly decrease back to their normal size, and then down to a grim narrow. "Donatello, Michelangelo, you are dismissed. Leonardo, come with me," my Father's thick Japanese accent orders my brothers away, leaving the two of us alone, leaving me with nothing to do but follow him into his bedroom.

The only light in the room is from the stumpy candlesticks, sending a thick layer of smog into the atmosphere. The oily smell floods my nostrils, and I inhale it deeply, allowing the scent to linger for a few extra seconds before exhaling it. Clouds of smoke surround me as I kneel before my father, who sits with his hands on his knees.

I imitate his posture, and stare deeply into his eyes, waiting for the deepening silence to break.

"His..wrists?" The words weave together like thread, crested in a sense of elegancy. This question is simple, and it spikes me interest.

"Yes, his wrists. Is there a problem?"

Splinter stands and begins pacing, stroking his long, filament beard. "I am afraid so, Leonardo."

My heart begins to race, skipping a beat every two or so, my blood pressure skewering in ways it most likely shouldn't. I can't help it though, I'm nervous. What's going on with Raphael?

Just when I thought I couldn't take the anxiety much longer, my Sensei stopped and looked down at me. "Your brother..is a suffering victim of self harm."

* * *

I urge my eyelids to shut, but they disobey, staying wide open as I stare up at my ceiling. Or, maybe it's the wall, or even the floor. I don't know, I'm mixed up. Ever since I found out..I haven't been the same.

It's been a week, and I'm beyond worried for my brother. I should talk to him. It beats sitting around in my bed, trying to come up with every possible answer to why he would self harm. I'm sure he'll tell me, I can get him to open up. We're best friends, we always have been and always will be. If I ask him a question he'll open up to me.

Raphael..has always been an open book to me. Ever since we were young. We've always been closer to each other than we are with Mikey and Donnie, nothing's ever stood between us.

Though, he does get frustrated with me a lot.

And we do bicker frequently.

And, now that I think about it, Raphael will ignore me at all costs.

So, are we brothers? Or just plain strangers?

* * *

 **What are your thoughts? Should I continue my Cuts and Bruises Prequel, or leave it as a oneshot? Please leave a review, I'd appreciate it! Have a nice week everyone! ;)**

 **-RaphSai03**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again everyone. There is only one word I can think of it describe my thoughts on your reviews; woah. Ten reviews for the first chapter, that's amazing you guys! Thank you so much for all of your amazing comments. Writing this right now I'm grinning like a fool. My viewers make me feel like the luckiest person on earth, so thank you so much for making me feel so perfect. Thanks a ton! Now, without further a do, chapter two! Enjoy, and review. ;)**

Darkness fills the quiet lair, the only light coming from the tv, broadcasting the title screen of Mikey's favorite video game, "Grand Theft Auto." I don't understand why he plays the game, it's not like we don't already get to fight crime anyhow.

I creep through the main room stealthily, not wanting to wake my baby brother who had fallen asleep on the couch. Though, I do make sure to put a warm fleece blanket over him before leaving Mikey to his own slumbering thoughts.

I enter the kitchen, my eyes instantly adjusting to the dim lighting. I scavenge the near-empty room, and find exactly who I'm looking for. Raphael.

The room is empty, all except for my younger brother, who sits carefully at the island, caressing mug of coffee.

I've never quite understood why he enjoys the drink so much to only ever drink it, but then again, he wonders the same thing for me with my tea.

But it's 3a.m. and he's sipping that caffeinated beverage as if it's half past eight. Training starts in four hours, and Raphael knows how much he's gonna need his sleep. Me and him are the most uptight about training, constantly reminding Mike and Don that we need at least five hours of rest each night. So, the fact that Raph is going against what he's always said tells me one thing and one thing only.

He doesn't want to sleep.

Of course, I have an idea why this might be. Because he's scared to be alone. Afraid to be surrounded by those shadow-like voices screaming for him to cut his wrists open so they can savor the grim feeling of fresh blood dripping slowly down his arms. The pain is supposed to be a solution; one that is completely unneeded. If you're depressed you need to talk to people about it, not bottle it all up and cut your skin every time a sudden wave of distress washes over you. That's irrational. If I were in Raphael's position, I would've gone straight to Splinter about my fogging thoughts of sorrow. If I were Raph, I wouldn't be suffering under the urge to self harm.

But I'm not Raphael. I'm me. Leonardo. And guess what; I don't even know the beginning of what Raphael is going through. The only thing I could quite possibly be sure of is that he self harms. But, the word "possibly" still dangles in the air like a woeful reminder. Mast Splinter informed me that Raph never quite came forth when he'd been asked about his cuts. He'd only denied it, bellowing at my father for asking such questions. "Rubbish," my father had quoted my little brother, "That is complete rubbish."

So, no, we don't know if he self harms. We've never seen any proof that he does or doesn't, and he's never admitted to it. Therefore, we could just be pestering Raphael for no reason at all. This could all just be something that came to my Sensei's mind one day during a meditation.

Or might not be.

But that's why I'm here right now. Because I need to find out what's going on. Is this fact or fiction? Surely Raph will open up to his own brother; right?

I take a few steps forward, striding away from the cloth used as a door, and closer to the island like counter seating my brother. Planting myself across from Raphael, I fold my arms atop the table, and stare at my red clashed brother, studying him intently.

My brother's carefully woven Crimson mask hugs his head tightly, clenching his skin harder than he ever could his fists. His breaths are shallow, making it sound as if he were asleep. Emerald green eyes are fixated on what I would guess is black coffee, his hands caressing the mug it rests in carefully, swishing the cup slightly.

As I stare at Raphael's arched eyes, I can't help but notice how much life has been drained from them. Like water in a tub, the light slowly slips out of my brother's eyes, the empty spaces being glazed over in darkness.

This took me back a few steps, because everything in those tiny little orbs had changed so dramatically.

Raphael's eyes are green; not just that boring crayon green, either. No, his were the kind of green that pushed its way through piling snow to remind spring would come along soon. That churning, passionate green that the ocean turns during a blazing storm. That color of the forest just after the rain had cleared up. The color of the tadpoles making ripples in the pond as they swim upstream. That green color that brings hope and life no matter what happens was nowhere to be found.

As I stared into those eyes I'd become so soothed by, I could no longer see that light that brought comfort to me.

Raphael's gaze shifted, from his coffee to my fearful glance. Our eyes locked, and I looked once more for what I loved so much about Raphael.

But..but I just couldn't see it. No matter how hard I scavenged through those seemingly emotionless eyes, no matter how many empty corridors I'd run down, I couldn't find what I was searching for.

I gave Raphael a look of loss.

"I can't see the light," my eyes whisper.

"Neither can I," Raphael's lonely eyes reply.

I bite my upper lip, gnawing on the rough skin as I anticipate what to say. The silence that fills the air ties it's heavy chains around my waist, pulling me down, down, down; drowning me in a sea of anxiety.

Just when I thought I couldn't take it any longer, just when I was about to give up and leave, Raphael spoke.

"Why are you here?"

"I want to know if you're okay," my brother's words barely escape his impatient voice before I respond, quickly and unexpectedly, like a bomb.

Too fast, I went too fast. I've startled him, I can tell by the way his face widened, the way he practically fell off his chair.

But as quickly as he'd become shocked, he'd become angry.

Glare darkening his already dank eyes, Raphael stood up, completely abandoning his coffee. He didn't let his state leave me though, he allowed it to stay put, where it burned thick holes through my skull. I wanted to die right then and there, just under the pressure of that forceful glare, hunting me down like a lion would a gazelle.

"I'm fine," his voice is sharp at the edges, like my elegantly carved katana after another hour of sharpening. "Why does everyone question that? I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fucking fine."

Raphael's tongue taunts me as it spits harsh words at my cowering body with raging flames. I want to give in and believe my brother - why would he lie to me - but I know better than to trust him. This is Raphael were talking about, he wouldn't just admit to his weaknesses. His greatest fear is vulnerability, even the blind can see that.

"No you're not! I know you're not. I know you're lying," I whisper the last sentence with such delicacy that u wonder if it was even me who spoke it rather than some poet, someone like Shakespeare. "Master Splinter says you self harm...is it true?"

Why do I ask?

Maybe it's because the slightest sliver of me hopes it isn't true. I want all of this to be a lie, I don't want Raph to think that the only way for him to feel better is to cut himself up into tiny pieces until he's nothing left. I want Raphael to feel like we have his back, like I have his back. Because I do. I just wish Raphael weren't too stubborn and blind sighted to see it.

Maybe it's because I don't want to lose Raphael. My little brother, my second in command, my best friend. The one who I've always looked out for, the one who always looked out for me. Living in a world without him wouldn't be living at all; it'd be slowly decaying until I'm nothing but shriveled bones and shattered teeth, waiting for the wind to knock me to dust.

Maybe it's because I want to help him get through this. Like the time I was afraid of the dark. Every night, Raphael let me sleep in his bed with him until I finally felt comfortable on my own. And until I did, I was allowed to snuggle up close to him, and wrap my arms around his shell. Sometimes he would face me, sometimes he'd have his back turned. Either way I was alright, because I knew that as long as I was with Raphael, the monsters lurking in the shadows wouldn't harm me. I want to repay Raphael for what he helped me through all those years ago.

Or maybe...maybe it's because I'm scared. Scared that Raphael does cut himself and that he's so down under with his depression that he won't be able to surface. Because of he can't, it's game over. He'll kill himself and I'll be left with the guilt of knowing that I could never help him.

No! No, I won't let that happen. Raphael will not go into this battle alone, never will I leave his side. This isn't something someone should face alone. So, I'll be persistent. No matter how much he tries to push me away, I'll just keep coming back.

Because that's just what you do for the people you love.

"No! No, just, leave me alone," Raphael storms out of the kitchen, leaving me alone.

I let him leave, if he needs his space then okay. I'll give it to him.

For now.

I begin to walk out of the mold-scented kitchen when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Raphael's coffee laying where it always had been. Shrugging, I walk over to it, picking it up and walking it to the sink.

Just before I did the mug of its contents, though, I dare myself to take the tiniest of sips. And when I do, I'm met with a great surprise.

Raphael wasn't drinking coffee.

It was alcohol.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey everyone! Thanks for the reviews. I'm glad that everyone is enjoying this story so far. So this is where the story starts trailing onto Cuts and Bruises. Chapter three takes place a month after the last chapter and this is the first chapter of C &B, but from Leonardo's POV, of course. It's a short chapter, but I wanted to keep it the length of the chapter it ties into in Cuts and Bruises. Hopefully you like this chapter, and if not, my apologies. Please leave a review and have a nice weekend!**

I scramble around the lair, searching each and every room for Raphael. I need his help lifting the punching bag onto its hook, it's far too heavy for me to handle solo. "Raph?" No response comes, though I do here shuffling in the kitchen. Of course, the one place I didn't check. "Raph, where are you?" One last chance buddy.

When Raphael ignores my calls once more, I roll my eyes in frustration and stalk over to the curtains leading into the kitchen. How stupid my little brother is, thinking that I can't hear him in here. I know it's him, too, considering Mikey went topside with Casey about and hour ago and Donatello is cooped up in the garage, working on a newer version of the stealthcycle.

As I enter the kitchen, I see Raphael leaning against the sink, sliding his Sais into his belt. "What d'ya want?" His demanding tone is just about as bitter as the smell of the steaming black coffee left over from this morning's breakfast. Something, though, leads me to believe that Raphael isn't as impatient as he usually is right now. But instead, scared.

Hesitantly my gaze shifts away from Raph, and over to study the room we stand in. As my stare glazes over regular settings, I don't pay any attention. Until my eyes land on the counter.

Drops of Crimson blood have father to form a small, shallow puddle. The gruesome liquid stains the marble surface. The sight of this upsets my stomach, and it's not because of the blood sitting atop the place I dine.

It's the part where Raphael admitted to self harm that upsets me. Because, I'd been hoping and praying that he hadn't done this; obviously that wasn't enough, because here I am now.

"Were you cutting yourself again?" My eyes lock with Raphael's, and a mixture of disgust and hurt washes over me like a wave.

Raphael doesn't reply, he just drops my gaze, staring down at the tiles beneath our feet cold heartedly. Shaking my head, fighting back screams in agony and thoughts of failure, I take as many steps as it takes to each my brother.

Roughly, I grab his left arm, grasping it fiercely. Raphael squirms against my clasped fingers, struggling to break free of my grip. "Let go of me," he hisses venomously.

I stare right into his eyes as I say, "No."

Raphael's eyes narrow at me and a low growl rumbles in his throat. I ignore it, getting to work on in peeling away the wrappings from his wrists. Gently, I place the bandages on the counter when Raphael's arm is free from them.

Inhaling deeply, I muster up the courage to look and see what my brother has done to his paper-thin skin. Exhale.

When I open my eyes, I'm face to face with dozens of scratches. Some deep, some shallow. Some long, some short. Some are dark, some are just barely noticeable. But either way, no matter how they look, they're still there. And they're deadly. They're scary.

Curiosity taking over me, I trail my fingers gently across the road of torn up and slit skin. The feeling of my flesh meeting Raphael's is enough to make me draw my hand back, and to release his wrist.

I feel uncomfortable, standing here in front of him. My arms cross over the front my plastron, making me look even more awkward than before. That, that right there, is something I will never forget.

"Raph, why do you do this?" I ask with eyes as wide as saucers.

The scowl on my brother's face is harsh, but I shove it aside, focusing more on the words he offers me than the expressions he wears. "Why do ya drink that damn tea all the time?"

I narrow my eyes in confusion, but I answer willingly. "Because it's good for me. It helps me heal."

"Exactly," that's it, that's his reply?

Raphael quickly ties his bandages back around his wrist and stomps out of the kitchen. I follow him out and into common area, my footsteps just a pace behind his.

"What do you want now?" I ignore his hostile tone, not wanting to side track from the conversation we'd started. "Why do you do it, though, what drove you to this?" Raphael's head snaps back, and when I look into his emerald eyes, I see that the burning embers within them have cooled, and are now lying down upon a hill of ash. He looks panicked, and I want nothing other than to help him.

Quickening his clip, he takes off towards the garage. "Raph, wait!" I shout as I chase him, but I'm too late.

He straps on his helmet and revs his motorbike. A vile-smelling cloud of gas puffs into the atmosphere as he rides away at full speed.

As Raphael disappears into the never ending sewer tunnels, I hear metal clang against the cement floors. Turning, I notice Donatello putting the finishing touches on his new bike. "Donnie, can I test that?" I need to catch up to Raphael, he hasn't answered my questions.

"Uh, sure. It may not work correctly but-"

"Thanks!" I grab a helmet from the rack and fasten it onto my head. Faster than light, I'm gone, speeding after my get-away brother.


	4. Chapter 4

The rain is heavy as it descends from the cloud, meeting the cold surface with a splash. Each individual drop makes a sacrifice when it falls. To leave the clouds means to break their legs against the concrete grounds, to become lost on the fabric of a person's clothes, to suddenly become nothing. They sacrifice themselves for the sake of others, but at what cost?

In order to save the majority—the rest of the precipitation embedded in the clouds, the flowers that are dying to bloom, the rivers that are slowly drying out—they are willing to kill themselves. They pretend to be okay, to be nothing, but really, they are something. They are something far beyond nothing, on the outskirts of perfection. The rain is needed, and it doesn't even know it.

After a storm, the sun reappears, and it tends to the wounds the rain had inflicted upon the world. Its beams evaporate the left over raindrops. It's rays warm the damp soil. It's heat draws the humans out of their shelter and out into nature.

The rain feels guilty. It dedicated everything it had into the simple action of showering down on the earth, and it was hated. Overlooked. Frowned upon. What must the rain do to be accepted? Nothing. No one will ever appreciate it for what it truly is, not when they've tasted the sun. People are greedy, when they find something they like, even when they give it the slightest of glances, they want nothing short of it. So the rain comes to terms with reality; he is hated and unwanted. The world would be better off without him. Feeling defeated, the rain disappears.

The sun is the first to notice the changes. From its place above the clouds it sees the droughts, the lack of crops, the suffering of those who rely on the rains water for survival. The world is falling apart, all because the rain left. They made the rain feel unneeded, and now, they're the ones left to their own devices. Helpless.

All around the world, people, animals, and plants reach out to the rains, begging them to return. "We need you," the plead, "we didn't mean to hurt you."

To which the rain replies, "you don't need me, you need my strength, the things I can gift you with. My soul and heart are merely an annoyance."

No amount of begging can convince the rain to make its return. Until the sun comes in. The star that is the bane of the storms existence. The only thing in the Galaxy that could convince the weather of its worth, struggles to speak. Is powerless when it comes to expressing the rains worth to its face.

Years go by, and the rain stays away. And the sun grows to be the one who is hated, the stormy weather the one who is longed for. Roles were reversed, all because the sun was too hung up on his fame to treat his counter with equality.

I am the sun, cocky and self assured, lowering the rain's self esteem, making him feel worthless.

Raphael is the rain. The rain that he sits in now, drowning in its sorrow like he does his thoughts. He leans against a shed, his head buried in the palms of his hands. He looks sad, and I know that, as the sun, it's my job to relieve him of his pain.

I start towards him.

My brother turns his head my way and stands up, unsheathing his twin Sai like the warrior that he is. He doesn't move, no, he stands with his head tilted and weight settled onto his right leg. He looks intimidating.

When I come close enough, his eyes widen, as if he's just now recognizing me and it's a surprise. Quickly, though, his expression drops back into a heavy glare.

"How in the hell did you find me?" Raphael barks angrily. His voice echoes, bouncing off of the buildings around us.

I don't acknowledge his yelling. "It wasn't that hard, actually. Donnie's been working on a newer version of the shellcycle. I asked if I could test it out and Don let me. I tracked your motorcycle, and followed you onto the rooftops."

He growls, the glare in his eyes deepening. I refuse to let it phase me, keeping the same straight face I've been wearing since the second I spotted him on this rainy rooftop.

"Why'd you come to find me?" Raphael demands bitterly, twirling his twin Sai rather than slip them back into his belt.

"Because you never answered me," I say simply, folding my arms across my chest.

I shift my weight from foot to foot, shivering in the rain. My brother presses a hand to his forehead, a chuckle rumbling in the pits of his throat.

"If I didn't answer then, what makes you think I'm gonna answer it now?" Raphael asks, hissing the words out from between his teeth.

Throwing my hands in the air, I exhale a long, heavy sigh. "I don't know! I was just hoping that you would let me in and tell me what this is all about. I want to help you, Raphael." I move to rest my hand on his shoulder, but pull back when he snorts.

"Well you're outta luck, big brother. Because I don't need be help. I'm perfectly fine on my own." Raphael turns around, sliding his sai into their holders.

I gawk at my little brother, neurotic about his response. "Oh, really? Because I beg to differ."

"Leave my alone, Leo," he warns through a set of gritted teeth.

"No!" I scream, stomping my foot against the wet pavement. "What part of this is 'perfectly fine?' You've been cutting yourself for the past- oh I don't even know how long you've been at this! All I know is that it needs to stop before something bad happens."

I point an accusing finger at my younger brother as I breathe sharply through my nostrils. Calmly, he pushes my finger down, forcing my hand to rest at my side. Raphael strides to the other side of the building, but just before he turns around and leaves me, I take a long look at his emerald eyes.

Surprisingly—and, thankfully—they glow against the darkness of the world. He sets light to the city with his gentle stare, igniting the street lamps with a fire greater than any.

As for me, his simple gaze takes my pain away, lifts burdens off of my shoulders.

Maybe that's why he's so down under, because he's carrying my problems as well as his own.

"It's been about a year and a half," he confesses, shrugging as if it's nothing.

To me, it's everything. Him admitting to me how long he's been at the act of self harm is a big step in our relationship, a step that's valuable to our getting closer with one another. My goal is to get him to trust me enough to tell me his every secret, even the deepest, scariest ones. I want to read Raphael Sanzio Hamato like a book.

I take a moment to let his words sink in, bathing in them and their meaning. A year and a half. My little brother has been harming himself for a year and a half, and I'm just now seeing it.

Raph leaps onto the building across from ours, to which, I follow.

When my feet hit the concrete roof, I move onto my next set of questions, "But why? What made you want to do all of this? Why is it good for you to harm yourself?"

Raphael snorts; again. "Because it helps ease the pain," he says matter of factly.

"That makes zero sense," I state, utterly dumbfounded

"How?"

"Because you're easing the pain with pain," I point out the flaw in his genius plans.

"Exactly. If you're in pain and you take a greater pain to replace it, you'll forget the first pain. The only problem is that the cutting isn't stronger." He stares down at his wrists, frowning deeply.

I take a step towards him, gazing into his sorrowful eyes with a look of sympathy. "What is so bad that it makes cutting yourself easy?"

Raphael's eyes lock with mine, and his expression softens slightly. "I can't tell you." His whisper is barely audible against the roaring winds, but I hear him. I always hear him, never miss a single syllable his gruff voice exhales.

Hurt strikes me down, impaling me like a bolt of lightning. My bottom lip pouts as I study Raphael's slumped posture and emotionless face. We're the same height, for now. I have a hunch he'll grow to be taller than me, roughly the size of Donatello. But as of the moment we're currently living through, we're parallel to each other.

"Why?" I ask in a hushed voice. "We're brothers, we can trust each other . . ," I trail off, not knowing what else to add. And honestly, there isn't anything to add. We're brothers, best friends, we should be able to tell each other anything.

Raphael shakes his head, glancing away from me. "I can't trust you, Leo."

I watch him run, hopping from one rooftop to the other. I don't chase after him, not like I had earlier. If I were to catch up with him, I'm not sure what I'd say. I'm choked up on words that refuse to arise, holding onto his final words to me.

I can't trust you, Leo.


	5. Chapter 5

Hello everyone!

It's been a long while since I posted anything on this account, but I'm back with a very special announcement that I think you will be glad to hear.

I fell out of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles fandom last year, due mainly to finding a new favorite show, but also because of the hiatus TMNT had been on at that time. When I wound up coming back to writing these stories, it was shortly after a breakup with a girl I met and fell in love with thanks to our mutual love for the turtles. It was extremely painful to write these stories, so I gave up on them for my own benefits.

Recently, I began watching and finished the show. Since then, I've been considering rewriting some of my own works. The two I've settled on are Cuts and Bruises and Scars and Markings. If enough people respond to this and ask for a remake, then I'll have the first few chapters up shortly. My plan is to rewrite the stories, now that my writing skills are more improved and, well, better. The general plot will remain the same, though there may be a few changes here and there. if anyone would like me to follow through with this plan, and to finish the series once and for all, then please leave a review and I will make it happen. If all goes accordingly, this series will end as a trilogy. Believe me, you'll all want to see what I have in store.

Additionally, if there are any other stories you would like to see in new and better condition, drop reviews or private message me and i will look into renewing those as well.

Thank you very much for taking the time to read this. My dearest apologies for my long break.


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